Come as you are
by Lise Blodeuwedd
Summary: A few years after they've last seen each other, Kurt and Dave meet again by chance and sparks fly. Written for the June 2013 Kurtofsky Exchange.
1. Chapter 1

Going shopping was definitely one of Dave Karofsky's least favorite activities; better than having open-heart surgery, yet worse than getting the crowded subway on a rainy day, probably somewhere along with taking care of a crying toddler. But it was certainly much much better than his number one fear: being the direct object of Santana Lopez's anger. He'd been in that position a few times, and would do anything to avoid the wrath of the beautiful latina, who just happened to be his best friend. He still couldn't quite figure out how they'd even become friends, struggled to explain whenever someone asked. _We met in high school,_ he'd say, sometimes following with _and we were each other's beards for a while_, if the person was close enough to warrant a longer explanation. More than that, he wouldn't say, mostly because he couldn't. To this day, over four years after their first "date", he still didn't know why he liked Santana so much. They had nearly nothing in common, aside from the fact that they were both gay, and maybe a bit different from the stereotypes, but that was it. She was beautiful and elegant, outspoken and witty, and knew how to use words well enough to make a grown man cry. He was nothing of the sort: chubby, common-looking, dressed in baggy jeans and varsity jacket, shy and quiet, only knew how to make grown man cry by using his muscles, something he'd vowed to himself not to do again (unless absolutely necessary, which was a different thing altogether). She liked to sing and dance and perform, to go out to dance clubs in tight dresses and flirt with everyone around, including poor guys who had no idea they'd never get her. Santana loved being the center of attention. Dave hated it. He hated dance clubs, preferring bars to meet new people, and even then he'd sit down on a corner and drink his beer, waiting for someone to approach him. If he was feeling confident and bold, he'd approach someone, flirt, ask for a number, maybe dance and make out a bit; but that was only when he felt lonely. Most of the time, he'd rather hang out with his friends on the fraternity house (most of them all lived there, anyway), or meet Santana for a movie or a coffee somewhere, or simply stay up in his bedroom watching silly videos on YouTube. But, to avoid Santana's rage, he'd do most anything. Including shopping. Which was why he now found himself being dragged from one packed store to the next one on a Saturday afternoon, a sea of teenagers and other college students around them, everyone trying to avoid the rain that had been falling mercilessly since the morning and still manage to hang out. Dave couldn't understand why they hadn't just stayed home, in their soft warm beds – that's what he'd have done if he had been given the choice. As it was, he was now being pulled into what had to be at least the fifth store he and Santana had been in trying to find a present for Maureen, this rocker chick she'd been dating for a couple months and whose birthday was coming up.

"I don't understand what was wrong with the last store. It was a music store; she'd have loved anything from there!"

"Yeah, but she already has _everything_ from there! Come on, let's go into this one", she said, pointing at small store with T-shirts of rock bands, torn jeans and black leggings on the window.

"Oh, because she certainly has _nothing_ from there, right?"

Santana glared at him and he rolled his eyes, still following her. "Can't we at least take a break? I'm getting hungry."

"Just this one and then we'll stop for a snack. I'm sure I'll find something in here anyway."

He sighed and followed her, knowing from years of experience that it was better not to argue anyway. Upon entering the store, he realized it wasn't as small as it had first seemed, with a lot of space on the back and a second floor that could be reached through a spiral staircase. There were two cash registers on the back and the store was packed with clothes and isles with random objects, from nose rings to fridge magnets. A lot of teenagers were walking through the store, some in groups and some by themselves, most of them seeming to fit in quite well with the store, with bright hair and dark clothes.

As Santana started to look through the shelves, Dave told her that he'd look on the second floor and quickly climbed the few steps. The second floor was smaller, with fitting rooms to the side covering most of it, and shoes on the other half, with benches in the middle for people to sit and either try on the shoes or wait for their friends.

A salesman approached him quickly with a smile on his face.

"Good afternoon, may I… David?"

He startled, looking attentively at the blue eyes staring back at him. There was eyeliner around those beautiful eyes, making them seem even brighter in contrast and giving their owner an edgy look. Still, they were unmistakable, and Dave smiled back at Kurt Hummel.

"Wow. I mean… You look…"

He wanted to say _hot_, because boy, did he look hot with black leather pants that fit perfectly around his ass and thighs and a short-sleeved rocker t-shirt showing arms a lot more toned than Dave had ever imagined. He figured that'd be too forward and probably weird, since they hadn't seen each other in years, though, so he stopped and let the sentence linger between them.

Kurt grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Different, huh?"

He grinned back, because, although he was still the same Kurt, with the same stunning eyes and porcelain skin and flawless hair, he did look a lot different than the fashionable effeminate boy who used to go to school with him. "Yeah, that." Still smiling, he looked around a bit. "This doesn't look like the sort of place you'd work in. No offence."

Kurt shook his head. "None taken. And, well, a job is a job, right? We all need money. It's not half bad and sometimes I find some fabulous stuff in here, believe it or not. Plus, I get employer's discount!"

"Maybe you should dye your hair bright blue. It'd go well with your eyes."

Kurt laughed, scrunching up his nose, his head falling back and cheeks becoming slightly pink, and Dave felt something stir inside him, some sort of happy, giddy feeling and, damn it, he had thought he was over this boy.

"Oh, god, no way! Do you have any idea what dying products can do to your hair?"

"Maybe a piercing then, or a couple of tattoos. You'd fit right in." He imagined Kurt with a piercing on his eyebrow and a large tattoo on his arm, and the image was nothing if not drop dead sexy. He licked his lips unconsciously, thankful his pants were not as tight as Kurt's, or the way his dick was twitching and filling would be completely obvious. It got worse when Kurt winked, motherfucking _winked_ at him, saying: "Who's to say I don't have any tattoos already? Maybe they're just in a place where you can't see them…"

He stopped there, but Dave was pretty sure he could hear the unspoken "yet" and he blushed. He wanted to say something witty, to reply that he'd be more than willing to see them, but a female voice interrupted them.

"My, my, what do we have here. If it isn't Lady Face. What happened, got kicked out of NADA?"

"NYADA."

"Same thing."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's good to see you too, Santana."

She smiled back fondly, letting her walls down around him, and reached out to give him a tight hug. Dave smiled at the interaction. He knew her, of course, knew that Santana could be caring and that she was extremely loyal and fiercely protective of those she loved, and that, sometimes, she could even show a sweet side. He knew all that, it was what he liked most about her, that she didn't have to be nice to everyone to be a nice person and she knew it, but, still, it felt good to see that he was not the only one she trusted enough to let her guard down.

She didn't make a big deal out of it, however, shrugging nonchalantly as soon as the hug was broken. "So, if you two are done flirting, can you help me now?"

He looked at her with wide eyes and felt his cheeks heating up, but Kurt just laughed and took Santana closer to the shoes so that he could start giving her suggestions.

They ended up leaving the store only one hour later, with not just one, but two presents for Maureen, plus new boots for Santana and a Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt for him, a present for being a nice friend and coming out shopping with her – and carrying everything, of course. Kurt gave them his number and they all promise to get together soon, keep in touch, and all those things you say to an acquaintance you haven't seen in a long time and probably never will again. Dave wanted it, though, he really wished to see Kurt again, preferably soon.

Once he got home, back in his small room, that he luckily didn't have to share with any of his fraternity brothers, he flopped on the bed and got his phone, fingers hovering over Kurt's number. He wanted to call him, to talk to him again – about anything, really, he wasn't picky, he just wanted to initiate some sort of contact between then. He hesitated, not knowing if that was a good idea. Kurt most probably had a boyfriend. He had definitely seemed to be flirting back in the store, though, so maybe he didn't. Or maybe he did, and he hadn't been flirting at all, just being nice, and Dave had misunderstood his intentions. He could also had been flirting solely for the purpose of convince him of buying more (he dismissed that hypothesis instantly – Kurt would never do that). He felt tempted to call Santana and ask her what he should do, but she'd already teased him enough about him while they were eating after having left the store. He wanted to get in touch with Kurt again, even if it led to nothing, simply for the fact that he was a genuinely nice guy. He didn't want to force something, though, push for a friendship that Kurt may not want. He sighed. He could almost hear Santana telling him to stop overthinking it and just do it already. Turning on the bed to support himself on his elbows, he got the phone again and decided to compromise by sending him a message. It was enough to reach out and make Kurt know that he actually meant it when he had said they should keep in touch, but still not so out there that Kurt couldn't ignore it if he wanted to. Which Dave really, really hoped he didn't.

**Hey, there. Nice seeing you today. – Dave**

He left the phone on the bed and decided to take a shower; that way he wouldn't keep staring at his phone obsessing over how long it'd take Kurt to respond.

It didn't help, however, for when he came back there was still no answer from him. It was only hours later, when he had pretty much given up and was trying to concentrate on studying that he got a reply.

**_Sorry, battery was dead. I liked it too. Come back and I'll help you pick out some nice clothes. – K._**

He didn't know whether to be happy that Kurt had answered him, or offended that he seemed to think his clothes weren't nice. Which, okay, might be true, but still hurt to listen.

**Are you saying my clothes aren't nice?**

**_Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you! I meant only to give you an excuse to come back. ;)_**

He felt his stomach fluttering at the winking smiley at the end and yeah, he was definitely flirting.

**Don't need one. **He wanted to add a winky face too, but didn't want to come too hard in case Kurt was just being playful. He wished he had enough confidence to just go for it and risk it, but he was not there yet. Maybe someday. **Seeing a friend is enough.**

**_I'll be waiting. :)_**

He quickly answered that he'd be there, and after that the conversation sort of died out. Dave tried to focus back on his studying, but his mind kept going back to a pair of blue eyes with black eyeliner.


	2. Chapter 2

He was back on the mall the next Saturday, this time having ditched Santana with the excuse that he had to finish a paper. Best friend or not, there was only so much teasing a guy could take. Plus, he knew he stood a better chance of actually talking to Kurt if he was on his own. His eyes searched for the slim boy as soon as he entered the store, and he spotted him easily – they may all dress the same, but Kurt still looked better than everyone. Boy, he was doomed. He was busy helping a customer, so Dave started browsing through the T-shirts to pass the time. He was approached by a salesman, but dismissed him politely. He looked at Kurt and got a smile in recognition that made him all warm and fuzzy inside. He ended up picking a few tees that he liked, wondering if Kurt would approve them, and scolded himself for trying so hard. If Kurt was into him, his clothes wouldn't matter much. Actually, if he was really into him, he'd hopefully be willing to see him with no clothes at all. He felt himself blushing at the thought, and smiled coyly. As luck would have it, Kurt chose that exact moment to approach him.

"What's so funny?"

"I…er… Funny shirt!" He said, lifting a dark green T-shirt that simply said "Come as you are", with the Nirvana smiley logo on the bottom . Kurt raised an eyebrow at him and he just shrugged. "_I_ thought it was funny." Kurt smirked and he suddenly got the sexual connotation and put the t-shirt back down.

"Do you want to try those on?"

Not really. He never tried on clothes. When he needed something, he would go to the store, pick something that he liked on his size, pay for it and take it home. He didn't see the point in trying something on, if he knew it's going to fit. Just seemed like a waste of time.

"Nah, thanks. They're my size."

"Sure, but don't you want to see how it looks? It's always a good idea to try something on, make sure it fits right, the color compliments your skin, you like the way it looks on you."

He pondered, not wanting to say no to Kurt. Plus, he was the expert in clothing, he should know better. He finally nodded, agreeing. "Alright, then." Kurt smiled and led him up the stairs.

"I'm glad you came back. After I didn't hear from you all week, I was beginning to think the promises to keep in touch had been vain."

Dave almost tripped, surprised to know that Kurt wanted to talk to him, had apparently missed (well, that was pretty much what he had said).

"You had my number", he pointed out, to which Kurt smiled. "Fair point", he said, raising his arms in fake surrender. He directed Dave to the changing rooms on the left (the ones on the right, on a larger number, were for women), and told him to choose a stall. There were only two, both empty, so he took the one in the corner, hanging the shirts and closing the curtain behind him.

He tried on the first one, red with a huge black dragon stamped across the chest and smiled at his reflection, liking the result.

"You're done? Can I see it?"

He opened the curtain proudly, stepping out and opening his arms for Kurt's inspection, grinning smugly. Kurt's scrunch up nose and frown made his smile drop though. "You don't like it?"

"Well… It's pretty, but a bit too large. Do you want to me to fetch a smaller size?"

"Er… I don't think it would fit. This is my size." He felt uncomfortable under Kurt's gaze, his brief moment of confidence completely gone.

"Well, let's see it, then. Try another one to see if you like it, and I'll go down and get a few T-shirts a side smaller."

He nodded, feeling defeated and frustrated. "Ok. Wait. You don't know my size."

Kurt only grinned at him. "I have a very good eye, David." And there it was, that wink again, the flirty, playful wink that made Dave hopeful and self-conscious all at once. He went back into the stall and waited, not even bothering to try on something else. It felt like years until Kurt was back.

"Ok, so I got a little bit carried away, sorry!", said his voice through the thin curtain. "I've brought you some tees!" He extended his arm into the stall without really looking in and handed Dave three t-shirts, each one a different color. He took them, thanking him and wondering why he'd think three tees was going overboard.

The first one was light gray, with The Beatles written across it in black in its signature font. It was simple, but it looked nice, albeit a little bit too tight. He could see his chest outlined and it was a close fit on his arms.

"You done? Can I see it?" He sighed, opening the curtain in resignation and stepping out.

"It's too tight."

Kurt's eyes widened and clapped his hands excitedly. "It's perfect!"

He could feel his face flushing again, even though he knew he didn't deserve the compliment. "You think? I think it's too tight around the chest and the arms."

"But those are your best attributes, you've got to show them off!"

He gulped, suddenly feeling confident again, even if a bit awkward. "Oh. You like them? I mean… You think I should show them off?"

"Absolutely! With guns like yours, why would you even wear long sleeves?"

"Because of the cold?"

He liked the way Kurt laughed again, easily and carefree, making these tiny snorting sounds that were impossibly cute.

"Well, about that… I got you something else." He reached into the empty stall next to him and, looking in, Dave understood why he'd said he'd gotten carried away. There were button-ups, jackets and even jeans filling the little hangers. Kurt picked a long-sleeved black button-up and handed it to him. "Try this on. Oh, and these too!" He picked a pair of washed-out jeans and handed it to Dave was well, who mutely obeyed and went back into the stall. He was surprised when the jeans fit – Kurt definitely had a good eye. It made him realize that he must had stared at his legs and ass and wonder what was his opinion. He rehearsed a line on his mind where he would smugly ask Kurt what he'd thought about his ass and Kurt would get flirty again, lean in closer, and whisper that he'd loved it, before raising his hands to Dave's ass and squeezing it. Kurt's voice shook him out of his reverie.

"You ready yet?"

"Hang on!", he answered, putting on the shirt, which, not surprisingly, also fit well. He looked into the mirror and almost couldn't recognize himself. He didn't know what magic Kurt had done, but he looked _good_. Not only his eyes or his smile, _all of him._

"You're a miracle worker", he said, stepping out of the stall and twirling, striking a pose with his hands gripping the front of the button-up.

Kurt fanned himself, lips parted in mock exaggeration, but it still made Dave feel pretty good about himself.

"Yeah, I know, I'm hot."

Kurt stopped, sighing. "Yeah, and now other people can see it!"

He stuck his tongue out, feeling childish and at the same time not caring at all. "Maybe now I'll get this guy I've been thinking about to make out with me."

"For sure. He'd have to be blind not to want to tap that!"

"Well, he's… a bit out of my league."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. You set the bar pretty high yourself."

He licked his lips and looked down, taking a step closer as well. "Thank you, but… This guy is really gorgeous. He's got the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen."

Kurt took a shaky breath, standing so close that all Dave would have to do to kiss him was lean in a bit. And he wanted it, he desperately wanted it, but the memory of their first – and last – kiss still haunted him, and there was no way he was going to kiss Kurt again without being absolutely, 100% sure that that was what the smaller boy wanted.

"What else do you like about him?" Kurt's voice was but a murmur and it made Dave's insides twist and his cock twitch and his legs feel like jelly.

"There's nothing I don't like about him. He's got perfect white skin and flawless hair and lips that beg to be kissed. He's got a great laugh and a voice that sounds amazing whether he's talking or singing. He's funny and nice and kind-hearted." His voice had dropped some octaves too, shaking slightly with unease and desire. They were looking right into each other's eyes and the need in them was unmistakable.

"That all?", Kurt whispered, mouth getting closer to his, eyes aiming south.

"He's got a pretty good ass too."

Kurt snorted and grinned, and then he was being kissed, soft lips grazing his and hands pressing against his nape and head and pushing him down, as if there was anything else he'd rather do. He kissed back, lips parting to capture Kurt's lower lip into his own and suck on it until he elicited a soft moan. His arms encircled Kurt's waist and rested at his back and he stepped back, taking them both into the stall and closing the curtain behind them.

Kurt's hands ran down his neck and pushed his chest, pressing him against the wall opposite the curtain. He ran his tongue through Dave's lips and thrust it into his mouth and Dave groaned at the contact, kissing back fiercely. Kurt's hands explored Dave's chest, roaming up and down over the soft cotton t-shirt. He pulled back slightly and impatiently tried to take off Dave's button-up, cursing when it got stuck at his wrists. Dave laughed and opened the buttons haphazardly, throwing the shirt on the floor without a second thought. Kurt's fingers were already moving the hem of his t-shirt up, impatiently pulling it up Dave's head and then leaving it to fall alongside the button-up. He placed open-mouthed kisses along Dave's jaw and the taller boy thrust up, his growing erection pressing against Kurt's hip. They both gasped at the contact, fire igniting between them. Dave gripped Kurt's leather-clad ass and thrust up again, his broken moans resounding close to his ear. Kurt's hands roamed Dave's chest again, stopping to play with his nipples, piercing and twisting and making Dave emit a low groan and close his eyes in ecstasy.

And suddenly Kurt was pulling back, face flushed and hair a complete mess.

"Oh, my god! I can't… I work here!"

Dave panted, mourning the loss of contact and feeling cold and exposed. "Well, you started it!"

Kurt sighed, backing out as much as the small space allowed him. "No, it's just…" He sighed again, then started giggling. The giggles turned into a full blown out laughter and Dave found himself laughing along, unable to resist.

When they finally stopped and caught their breaths, Kurt's eyes were kind and full of promises. "I leave at 5." He bit his lower lip and Dave smiled.

"I'll be back by 5, then. After I… er… pay for this stuff." He gestured around him.

"Oh, you're taking it then?"

"Sure thing. They just helped me make out with this gorgeous guy I've been into for ages!"

They were lying side by side in Dave's bed, facing each other with grins so wide they threatened to split their faces in two. They were naked, legs intertwined under a blanket, Kurt's arm around Dave's waist, his other arm folded under his head. Dave had an arm between them, gently caressing Kurt's cheek, and the other hand splayed across the slender hip, running lazy circles over the soft flesh. They gazed at each other fondly, every once in a while erupting into a fit of giggles, only to stop and stare at each other seriously, then kiss languidly, then back into the giggles, in a circle neither of them wanted to break.

They'd gone in an impromptu date after Kurt's shift, chatting animatedly and exchanging life stories over burgers and milkshakes. Kurt had told Dave how he was in his last year at NYADA, how torn he still was over being a performer or a designer, both passions pulling him strongly. Dave had told Kurt he was majoring in Journalism, and that he hadn't given up the dream of being a sports agent that he'd shared with Kurt on a day that now seemed a lifetime ago, but simply realized that he liked writing and that he'd still be involved in sports by reporting it. He had told Kurt how he was doing better, was still in therapy, but not taking any meds anymore, and had never attempted against himself anymore (though dark thoughts still haunted him from time to time). He had told Kurt about his parents' divorce and that he barely spoke to this mother now, and, although he sometimes missed her, whenever they did speak he'd always leave broken-hearted and frustrated, and yet he couldn't bring himself to stop caring. Kurt had told him about his father's cancer, what a scare it had been, and it still was sometimes, when on a few nights he'd have nightmares about his father dying and him not being there to say goodbye. Dave had told Kurt about his own monsters under his bed, and how the new friends he'd made at NYU had helped him immensely, how they all knew he was gay and didn't give a shit about it. Kurt had told him how proud he was of him for coming so far, and how sorry he was that he hadn't kept in touch. Dave had shrugged it off, saying that maybe it had been better this way, better that he'd had time to mature and grow before meeting him again, and Kurt had smiled brightly at him before leaning in and kissing him softly, the taste of the strawberry milkshake on his cold lips. And then neither had said anything else.

Dave had taken Kurt to his fraternity at NYU and introduced him to his frat mates, and Kurt had an awkward moment where he had to apologize to eager frat boys for not knowing any of the punk rock bands they mentioned, and explain why he was dressed the way he was. They'd hung out in Dave's room, climbing the stairs to the sound of cat calls that had Dave's face completely red and Kurt laughing at him. They'd kicked off their shoes and thrown themselves onto the bed, chatting some more, Dave telling Kurt stories about Santana and how she'd tracked him down a couple of years ago and become his best friend ever since. They'd made out slowly, leisurely, then with increasing hurry as the heat between them became unbearable and clothes started flying across the room. They'd explored each other's bodies with trembling fingers and eager tongues, making love as passionately as they had made out in the store, but with nothing to interrupt them this time. Dave had silently thanked the universe that this was happening, and that it was happening only now. When he was younger, he'd had a huge crush on Kurt, but always thought himself beneath him, at the same time that he'd treated him terribly. He'd fantasized about this then, but never truly believed it would ever happen. He was glad it hadn't then. He'd needed that time to grow more confident in himself, to date other guys and see that he could be desirable, handsome. And if a bit of his lack of confidence still had lingered, the way that Kurt had looked at him, with lust clear in his eyes, made it disappear completely. For when Kurt looked at him like that, his beautiful blue eyes shining with desire, he had never felt more handsome.

Now he was again staring into those eyes, for the first time actually seeing the different shades that composed them, like a clear sky reflected on a lake, and feeling like he'd never grow tired of watching them.

"I love what you've done with the décor", Kurt said, breaking the silence between them and looking around Dave's bedroom : a small desk where his computer was and a wooden chair, a closet and a chest full of books on top, and a hockey poster covering one of the walls. Dave laughed at his sarcasm.

"Well, we can always hang out in your bedroom next time." He looked at Kurt expectantly, butterflies on his stomach over mentioning a next time, although he was quite sure Kurt wanted it as much as he did.

"Oh, and miss the cat calls? I don't think so!"

Dave laughed along, then suddenly sobered up, remembering something.

"Hey, how come you don't have any tattoos?" Upon Kurt's frown, he continued. "You know, last week, when I suggested you got a tattoo, you said maybe you already had them, but I'm pretty sure you don't." He lifted the blanket, carefully inspecting every inch of Kurt's body (again), sliding down and running his fingers over chest and legs, then making Kurt roll around while the paler boy laughed hysterically, and running his fingers up the back of his legs, his ass and back, then finally placing a kiss on his shoulder. "Nope, no tattoos!"

Kurt turned to face him. "Ha", he kissed Dave's lips. "Made you look!"


End file.
